


make it work, make it sweet

by whatlighttasteslike (waitingforeleven)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Birthday Cake, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Presents, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Sci-Ops Era (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-29 23:44:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15739728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingforeleven/pseuds/whatlighttasteslike
Summary: When Jemma hopes to surprise Fitz for his birthday with something sweet, things don’t quite go according to plan.(Sci-Ops Era/Established Relationship)





	make it work, make it sweet

**Author's Note:**

> (reposting because ao3 is having issues)  
> Written for the anon on tumblr that requested FS + I did the dishes. 
> 
> The title is from the musical _Waitress_. Enjoy!

 

 

 

With her grocery sacks cutting into her arm as she trekked up to the fourth floor of her apartment complex, Jemma cursed herself for forgetting the reusable bags she’d left hanging on the pantry door. Luckily, that was the only mishap she’d encountered since embarking on her day’s plans. With Fitz out for the day, it was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of their small but still fully functional kitchen in their shared flat to make him something special. They usually didn’t go crazy on birthdays, but he’d taken her to the local arboretum the afternoon of her birthday last year, and with him being 23 days older than her, it gave her almost an entire year to prepare something spectacular for his day of celebration. But even with plenty of time to prepare, it didn’t make the task of surprising him any easier.  

Unfortunately, she wasn’t necessarily the best at thinking up surprises for her boyfriend ever since they’d established that Fitz was much more talented in the realm of romantic gestures. Preparing something special for someone who would be pleased with just about anything was a difficult task to narrow down, so it took a great deal of brainstorming before she settled on the perfect gift. She knew buying him something extravagant wasn’t an option since they were trying to keep their possessions as minimal as possible in their cramped flat. And she knew a surprise party would likely spook him more than anything else, him often preferring to spend time alone with her rather than with a large crowd of people.

It was only when they were invited to a colleague’s birthday party in the summer did she suddenly come up with a plan as they came across the subject of birthday cakes.

“It’s good,” Jemma uttered through a mouthful of vanilla cake as they hid in a corner of the loud and overly crowded patio. “Could be better.”

At her side, Fitz shook his head. “Jemma, are you really judging the cake? It’s sweet, it’s got loads of icing, and it’s _free_.” Poking his fork into her slice, he stole a bite before she brought her plate closer to her chest protectively.

“ _Yes_ , but it’s so boring,” she explained, not impressed by the simple vanilla sheet cake that easily fed a crowd but wasn’t up to her standards for desserts. “You only get one birthday a year, so you might as well make a cake that’s just as special.”

Fitz shrugged. “Well, it’s just a cake. I can’t even remember the last time I had a birthday cake like this.”

Putting down her fork, Jemma tilted her head. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Oh. Well, it’s not like I’ve never had a birthday cake,” he told her. “I had ones when I was really little, but once it was just the two of us, my mum would always take me to this bakery down the street to get a slice there.”

“Ah,” Jemma replied plainly.

“I didn’t mind,” he said, shrugging. “I think she always hated having so much leftover, and I didn’t want her to go to the trouble of making one, anyway.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” she said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

Upon learning this fact, Jemma instantly felt horrible for not thinking to make him a cake in the past. With their last few years spent at the Academy and now at Sci-Ops together, their schedules were so incredibly busy that they usually settled for store-bought cupcakes on birthdays, the single candles giving them just enough light to make wishes for the next year they were to spend at each other’s side. Now, all Jemma could think about was making up for lost time and what would hopefully be a delighted look on Fitz's face when she ultimately presented him with his freshly baked cake.

Once she learned that Fitz’s mum would be in town for his birthday, Jemma suggested that he should spend the day with her, and then the three of them could all meet up for dinner afterwards, giving Jemma time to prepare his gift in secret. Based on her skill level, she calculated precisely how much time she needed to bake and decorate the cake in time for it to be ready for dessert that night. A small white lie about having lunch with Daisy allowed her to leave their flat in the morning without question (but not before giving Fitz his first birthday present of the day, which—based on her observation—he seemed to enjoy _tremendously_ ).

Of course, instead of meeting Daisy, Jemma hopped over to the supermarket to collect fresh ingredients, wanting nothing short of the best for Fitz’s soon to be glorious birthday cake. With all the proper pieces purchased and arriving home just in time, she felt her plans were going off without a hitch. That was until she swung open the flat door and stumbled inside, letting out a loud gasp at the sight in front of her.

The countertops were nearly spotless, the dishes were laying in their rack to dry, but the most alarming sight before her with her boyfriend with a bottle of all-purpose cleaner in hand and a thin layer of sweat coating the back of his neck.

“Oh!” Jemma exclaimed, forgetting to ease the door shut, so the loud slam sent Fitz turning around at the noise.

“Hey, Jemma. You’re back early,” he said happily.  

“Fitz. You’re… you’re here,” she said, unable to move from her shock.

“Yeah, did you go shopping?” he asked. He gestured toward the fridge. “We’re low on milk, I think.”

Slowly, Jemma tried to lower the grocery sacks without losing her grip to hide them behind her back. “Yeah. Wha-what are you doing here?”

Fitz chuckled lightly, resuming his work of scrubbing down a corner of their kitchen island. “I’d like to ask you the same question,” he said, raising his eyebrows, “since you said you were meeting Daisy for lunch.”   

“I had…errands to run first,” she answered before clearing her throat. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Aren’t you happy that I’m cleaning?”

“Not today, I’m not. Aren’t you supposed to be spending the day with your mum?”

“Change of plans,” Fitz explained as he continued to scrub at the countertop. “Got a call saying her flight’s running late, so she’s coming in tomorrow instead. Which is actually better, because now I have more time to make sure the flat is in order, so she doesn’t think we live like slobs.” He looked up, raising his hands. “Not that we do, of course, but you know. Don’t want her to worry. Anyway, I did the dishes, laundry’s almost done.”

“Oh,” Jemma replied softly. “Right, okay.”

“I didn’t text you because I didn’t want you to cancel on Daisy for my sake.”

Nodding, Jemma inched one of the grocery sacks higher on her arm, still struggling with its weight.

“Here,” Fitz said, putting down the cleaner and rushing forward. “I got it.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” she insisted, quickly pulling the bags away as he reached forward to keep the ingredients a secret. But her swift movement resulted in yet another mishap of the day as the thin plastic of one of the grocery sacks tore open from the bottom.

Before Jemma had time to react, the contents went tumbling to the floor, the sacks of flour and sugar landing with a heavy _thump_ but luckily staying mostly intact. Tragically, the jug of milk and the jar of rainbow sprinkles were not as lucky.

“Oh, no, no, no!” Jemma cried as she trailed after the rolling jar, the sugary morsels now decorating a good portion of their kitchen floor. As she struggled, muttering a few expletives to herself, Fitz got to his knees to collect the other fallen ingredients while he took paper towels to the growing puddle under the milk jug.

“Well, so much for the milk. And wow, that… is a lot of sprinkles,” he said through a laugh.

“Ugh, this is a disaster,” Jemma whispered as she tried to collect the sprinkles into a pile, hanging her head so Fitz couldn’t see her expression.

It was happening again, she thought to herself painfully. No matter how meticulous she was in her preparations, her attempts at being romantic were somehow always falling apart, and without warning, a lump started to form in her throat as her eyes filled with tears.

“It’s okay, I’ll clean it up,” Fitz told her before getting to his feet and searching for their broom and dustpan.

“Thank you,” Jemma replied, giving up her attempts to collect the sprinkles to lean against the bottom cupboards of the kitchen in defeat. “I just… I had plans all set and stone, and they only work if you’re out of the flat all day.”

“What sort of plans?” Fitz asked from the other side of the kitchen.

Through a deep sigh, Jemma shook her head. “Nothing, it’s…” She paused, sniffling and wiping under her eyelid. “It’s nothing. I’ll make it work. Somehow.”

“Well, do you want me to leave?” Fitz asked while he started to sweep the floor. But once he got around the island and found Jemma leaning against the cupboard, he froze. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

Looking up, she gave him a weak smile. “How is it so easy for you?”

“What?”

“To be romantic,” she said quietly.

At her words, Fitz tilted his head, giving her a sympathetic look.

“You always… take me by surprise and everything is always so unbelievably perfect,” Jemma explained. “I, on the other hand, am always running into trouble. First it was the holiday that didn’t work out because of Weaver’s last minute project, then there was that astrophysics lecture that I was going to surprise you with, but then _you_ had already bought us tickets. And now I can’t even get your bloody birthday present right.” Shaking her head, she pressed a hand to her forehead.

As she expected, Fitz balanced the broom against the counter before he made his way to her side on the floor. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he urged her to turn towards him. “Come here,” he whispered.

WIthout a word, Jemma sunk her head to his shoulder and curled into him, swinging her legs over his to settle in his lap. “I’m sorry,” she said after a few moments, wiping the few tears away and letting herself laugh for the first time as she took in the mess that was their kitchen and her current state. “I’m just being silly.”

“No, you’re not,” Fitz assured her, moving a stray hair that had fallen in front of her face. “I’m sorry I ruined your plans.”

“It’s not your fault. It was an accident.” Letting out a small sigh, she shrugged. “But still. I don’t understand how it always goes so well for you every time. I try to plan something nice for you and it always seems to burst into flames.”

It was his turn to laugh, which Jemma found annoyingly adorable considering her state of mind. After, when he looked at her with a more serious expression, she waited for him to explain.

“Did you know…” he finally said, “that for every seemingly perfect date or gift, there are probably about three failures in-between?”

Jemma scrunched up her face. “What do you mean?”

“Do you really think that the time we stayed in during that crazy thunderstorm with Chinese take away and that Austen movie marathon—that was plan A?” He let out another chuckle before he continued. “That was supposed to be a picnic in the afternoon and then stargazing at night. Turns out I vastly misjudged the weather patterns that day, along with my skill in making sandwiches that even come close to yours.”

“Aw, but that was a good night,” Jemma assured him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“It really was,” he agreed. “And then those flowers I got you after you passed your final Academy exams? Those were purchased because the dwarf prototype I was originally working on _may_ or may not have exploded in the lab.”

With widened eyes, Jemma looked back up at him. “Oh, God. You never told me that,” she said, astonished.  

“Well, the miscalculation helped us finish the project in the end, so I didn’t feel the need to inform you about that bit,” Fitz admitted through a half shrug.

Jemma let out a faint laugh.

“But see?” he said, poking her playfully in the side. “What you think is perfect and effortless is actually a great deal of throwing things together on my end, and that’s okay. ”

She nodded, already feeling immensely better about her soiled surprise.

“Whatever you end up doing,” Fitz went on, “even if it’s not exactly what you originally planned, I’ll always love it because it’s from you.”

“I know,” Jemma said, her voice low. “I just wanted things to go right this time.”

“Alright, spill,” Fitz said in a lighter tone. “What were you planning?”

Pulling back to look at him fully in the eye, Jemma sighed. “I was going to bake you a cake,” she finally confessed, her voice as small as the smile growing on her face.

It took a moment for Fitz to respond, but then his eyes turned bright. “Really?”

“Yes, I know it doesn’t sound _that_ exciting, but wasn’t just any cake,” she gushed. “It was going to be this beautiful, magnificent, delicious cake. And it was going to have six layers—”

“Six?!”

“ _Yes_ , and sprinkles, and a chocolate drizzle, and I was going to surprise you and your mum when we all got back from dinner.”

“Jemma, that…” Fitz shook his head in disbelief. “That sounds amazing.”

“I just wanted to do something special for a change.” Taking hold of his hand, she looked down at her lap.

“You still can,” he told her reassuringly, rubbing her back. “But now you can have my help.”

“But it was supposed to be a surprise,” Jemma replied, pouting.

“Okay, then, how about I help you with the baking part, and then I’ll leave the decorating up to you?” he offered.

Jemma thought for a moment before she pursed her lips, nodding. “That does sound like a good idea. An assistant would make things a lot easier.”

“Assistant?”

Rolling her eyes dramatically, Jemma shook her head. “Alright, fine. _Partner_. But be honest, Fitz, how much baking have you done in your life?”

“I’ve done enough,” he answered, looking a bit insulted by her question, but smiling nonetheless. “And it’s just science, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and good judgement.”

“And fun, I’m hoping. Plus, with an expert at my side, I’m sure I’ll learn just fine.”

“Yes, you will,” she told him happily. After giving him a small peck on his cheek, not a trace of disappointment left within her, Jemma got to her feet and pulled Fitz up. “Right, then. Let’s get to work.”

 

~

 

It took nearly five hours, but eventually, the two of them sunk heavily onto the sofa before cutting into what Jemma thought was one of her most brilliant creations to date. After Fitz went out to replace the spilled milk and rainbow sprinkles, they set about a routine of weighing, mixing, pouring, and then finally watching the cakes rise in the oven as they transformed before their eyes. As they’d agreed, Fitz stayed in the living room while Jemma got about icing and decorating the cake. And when, at last, it was finished and she presented it to him proudly—all six layers of soft and springy sponge towered up high with rich buttercream—Fitz seemed lost for words.

At the moment, they’d already polished off two slices and were now sharing a third, Jemma’s legs draped over Fitz’s lap as they balanced the plate between them.

“It really is spectacular,” Fitz told her, patting her knee.  

“Thank you,” Jemma replied lovingly.  

“And you technically made me three cakes,” he pointed out.  

“Well, I didn’t know which one you would like best, so I thought… Neapolitan. Felt like the safest route.”

“It’s bloody delicious is what it is,” he mumbled through a mouthful of the strawberry layer.

Once the third slice was demolished and they were left with only crumbs, Fitz took Jemma’s hand and pulled her closer to his side.

“You did well. Very romantic, indeed,” he told her, his lips pressed to her forehead.  

“Good,” she said into his neck. “And maybe... this can be the first of many special cakes in the future?” She looked up with a raised brow in a hopeful expression.

She saw something shift behind his eyes then, as if a new thought was entering his brain at that precise moment. She liked to think it was the same one running through her mind as well, a future filled with many more special occasions made brighter with the addition of delicious desserts, and maybe even one where the cake was the centerpiece of a grand celebration, an occasion much more memorable than any birthday.

Eventually, he nodded, his smile growing wider as he leaned in. “Yeah, that sounds nice,” he whispered before capturing her in a soft kiss, the taste of his lips just as sweet as his words, the sugary treat they’d just devoured, and what turned out to be quite the romantic night after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! See the cake Jemma made [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Up9tQDW9WpE&frags=pl%2Cwn). (from Cupcake Jemma :D) 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [mylifemyheartmyhome](http://mylifemyheartmyhome.tumblr.com)!


End file.
